No one that spends any amount of time crawling through the woods, turning over rotten logs, probing burrows, and sloshing through swamps should be surprised when they get stung or bitten. For the macro photographer it is an occupational hazard. In this series of short articles I am going to introduce you to a few of the worst culprits here in the southern United States. I'll tell you how to identify the danger, manage the encounter, and, when all else fails, what to do when you fall victim to one of these beasts.

Allow me to introduce Dasymutilla occidentalis, commonly know as the red velvet ant or eastern velvet ant. This charming little creature is also known as the cow killer ant. An ominous name for what turns out to be a nasty piece of work.

First thing to know is that this furry little bundle of joy is not actually an ant. It is a wasp. The females, like the beauty above, are wingless and, frankly, seem to have a chip on their crimson shoulder about it. More on that later. The male is a drab, reddish-brown creature that actually looks like the wasp that it is. We will focus on her.

You can find cow killers, or they can find you, almost anywhere in the continental US. They are quite plentiful and will usually be found scurrying around in short grass or on the forest floor. They dash around as if they just remembered a doctor's appointment and can't find their car keys. But don't be fooled - these charmers have an altogether less innocent mission. They are looking for the burrows of other species of ground-dwelling wasps, the cicada killer being one example. When she finds a promising burrow, she pops down and lays an egg onto one of the developing larvae. The egg hatches and the cow killer larva feasts on the host larva until it is fully developed and ready to, presumably, go kill some cows.

These animals are not hard to spot. They are very brightly colored and make no attempt to conceal themselves. Apparently they make a rapid clicking noise when anxious or cornered. I will trust the entomologist who described this sound and have no intention of getting my ear anywhere near close enough to hear it myself. So, what should we do when we spot one of these bovine marauders? Nothing, really. Take a few pictures, if you can hold focus and track her as she dashes around, and then move on. I strongly urge you not to pick her up or try to trap her. She is fast and unpredictable and, I suspect, still furious about not having any wings. Her stinger is as long as her abdomen and she is not afraid to use it. For those of you who are thinking, "come on! It can't be that bad!", it can and it is. This wasp has few, if any, predators - nothing wants to eat it - that should tell you something.

So.... you saw a nice big cow killer at the company picnic, but the only thing you remember from glancing at this post was the part about the clicking noise. You grab her and have her halfway into your ear canal when she stings. Unfortunately, you weren't able to hear the clicking noises over your own screams. Now what? 

There is not a lot you can do once the venom has been injected. Like with any wasp sting, it will be intensely painful for several hours, sometimes days, and will cause redness and swelling that can spread an alarming distance from the site of the sting. She retracts the stinger after injecting her venom, so there is nothing to pull out of your skin, or ear, in this horrifying case. Cleaning the sting with a disinfectant is a good idea. Cold packs may help lessen the swelling and redness, but do little for the acute pain. Over the coming hours and days, the affected area can itch intensely, and an over-the-counter antihistamine may bring some relief.

One important caveat... some individuals will be allergic to the venom, and in the most extreme cases a sting may trigger a life-threatening anaphylactic reaction in a susceptible victim. If hives, difficulty breathing, hoarseness, nausea, vomiting, abdominal pain, rapid heart rate, or loss of consciousness develop, even if it is hours after the sting, seek immediate medical attention.

In the aftermath of your cow killer misadventure, you may find comfort in the knowledge that if you were an Australian macro photographer and had been bitten or stung by literally anything on that continent, you would already be dead.

See you in the bushes!